Hello

Well, I have no real news other than I get the agent notes tomorrow! Yay. I've been waiting since the middle of December and it's great that they are promised for tomorrow. I haven't been hassling her but she's been running behind and is very apologetic. Tuesday I go away 'fishing' again - we have a heat wave on the way and while I'm always happy to just stay inside, we've been invited down the coast (me and P; Clokes is staying in town with one of the other kids; third child is down the coast with his grandparents.)

So it'll be nice to go away for a few nights; spend some time with family, set up on the beach in my little shade tent and swim and read and eat fruit. And compost what I need to do for the revision.

P and I are working our way through West Wing. I love it that she loves it. We are in Season 6, which is the second-last. It's getting really exciting. I think we'll finish before we go away.

Reading: I'm re-reading Donna Tartt's The Little Friend, which I bought and read after reading The Secret History. I didn't like it much at all, think I wanted it to be like Secret History BUT now that I am a more mature reader (and after reading and loving The Goldfinch, her latest) I decided to try it again. But I'd donated it to the op shop. I rarely get rid of books because they are my good friends/babies/lovers, whatever you want to call them. I've gotten rid of things like Jodi Picoult (sucked in to buying a couple) but other than those, I've kept everything. Including my Sidney Sheldons and Jackie Collinses.

So I had to re-buy it, and it wasn't easy. When I first went online to try to order it, it wasn't available. I checked the op shop, because it wasn't that long ago it was taken down there, but no. Wasn't there. I bought about a dozen other books, of course. And because I'd been in a bit of a rush, I convinced myself I might have missed it, so I went back, and bought more books that weren't The Little Friend. And then I checked online again and it was there. They must have ordered them in because of her latest book being so successful.

So I got it, and started it. It's very readable (I don't think that was the problem last time) so I shall keep on with it.

So apart from all that incredibly riveting information, there's nothing much else to report. The holidays seem long this year, actually. We'll go for a drive later, the L-plater that is, do our walk with the dog in the evening and settle in for West Wing. We've got schnitzel for tea, P is doing her research for her 4,000 word essay on the influence of Italian fascism on nazism, I'm doing my pottering online and waiting for this frigging email and marked-up manuscript and all is well with the world.

Too much and nothing

I have nothing much to say. I'm sad about Turkey, some of the footage coming out is depressing, but images of protesters cleaning up Taksim and people leaving food and drink for people in heaps around the city, they were inspiring and heart-warming pictures. I hope the people prevail, that's all I can say. While Turkish police are some of the hottest dudes I've ever seen and their uniforms are so cool, they are fucking brutal. I'm wondering where the military is, and what they make of it. Historically, the army steps in when the government strays too far from the principals of Ataturk, there have been a few coup d'etats. But I'm not sure whether the current government has made legislative changes and reduced the power of the military. It's something I've not kept up with over the last ten years or so.

I am writing. I'm struggling to think about writing a book review, something I've promised myself I'll learn to do and then do one properly.

I'm reading High Sobriety by Jill Stark. It's literally sobering. When it was recently critiqued on the First Tuesday Book Club Show or whatever-the-bloody-hell-it's-called-now, 3 out of the 5 panellists hadn't had a drink since finishing it. So that was Marieke H, the young guy on her right, and I think it was Sophie Cunningham? Can't remember. The only two who didn't say they'd taken a break were Jason Steger and Jennifer Byrne. That's not to say Steger didn't take a break, he just didn't indicate one way or the other. Byrne put her hand up and said nothing had changed with her.

Last night I went to a local reading thingy, it's a pretty cool soiree affair once a month where a couple of people read and then they have open mike. This is the second I've been to and I enjoyed it again and it's the closest thing to an old-style literary salon I think I could ever be part of. The atmosphere is very warm, open and welcoming - none of the snobby exclusivity that you can find in any world. Nevertheless, I think it's pretty brave of me to rock up on my own, there's a whole table of people having food and drinks beforehand, and I just insinuate myself onto the end of the table. Thank god the organiser recognised me (from last time) and smiled at me and said hi. So high school, so pathetic. I am a true introvert and while if you met me I'd not seem it, I am rawther reserved. But the lure of the evening and being there outweighed - again - the promise of sticking out like a sore-thumb loner. Most times I'm happy to be a loner (as much as anyone with three children and a husband can be one) but some times, the 15-year-old schoolgirl that lives on inside of me just wants somebody to sit with.

I've listened to a couple of open mike people. Really, there's no microphone, just people sitting around a table, no more than 10 or 12. I've read my stuff in front of workshops and groups before. I like reading my stuff (let's face it, anyone who wants to write and get published also probably has the ego to read aloud in front of strangers). This is something that 15-year-old inner schoolgirl would not be able to comprehend. Read aloud? Voluntarily?

So I may work up to it. Let you know.

I'm not teaching at the moment, there's a bit of a lull for a month or so. Which is good and bad. Bad because no money but good because time to write. I'm working on number two, there is little constipation; this is something that has been with me in essence since end of 1999/through 2000. That's a a while. It's like an affectionate homage to Turkey (the love letter to Turkey is another project, a (gulp) memoir. Ha.) I have struggled with the form and structure of it, but think I am getting there.

The family is fine, things are fine. Muddling along. We head to Bali at the end of this month which will be nice, despite catching a stupid segment on Leigh Sales last night about violence to Australians in Bali. I have never watched Leigh Sales apart from the youtube clip of her interviewing Tony Abbott. I thought she was reasonable quality and that her show would therefore be of reasonable quality. The Bali piece was crap. What the hell. No wonder I don't watch tv other than sitcoms and reality stuff.

So we started watching MasterChef last night. The whole battle of the sexes was predictably sick-making. And of course there were the predictable hate-making personalities, as well as the usual array of hat-wearing tools. It's a bit of fluff I like to watch.

We have about three Game of Thrones to catch up on, as well as we need to finish our latest run-through of Seinfeld. We are almost at the end where Jerry and Elaine are just so over everything, George is shouting a lot and Kramer is... the same. Princess and I are watching West Wing too (me re-watching, she watching for the first time.) I love that show. There's not one bad character apart from lispy short-haired girl, but she goes soon.

All good if a little quiet

I've been busy and things have been distracting me, not the least Kurt and Blaine from Glee.

What a wonderful scene when they kissed on Monday night's show.

I'm having blogger trouble with uploading videos; haven't the time or inclination to update my technology to allow this and my IT guy is never around. Or if he is, he's watching tv or doing his own tech blah de blah thangs.

Otherwise things are ok. Yep busy. But yep good.

What news have you? I'm feeling out of touch.